


Get A Little Outta Line

by FunkyinFishnet



Series: Do What I Dare [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Family, M/M, Male Slash, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:56:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles talks down a rival pack's Alpha, tells his Dad about werewolves, is confronted by Chris Argent, and communicates enjoyably without words with Derek. It's pretty awesome altogether.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get A Little Outta Line

**Author's Note:**

> Title is again from the song 'Man! I Feel Like A Woman' by Shania Twain, and more mega thanks are due to miya_tenaka for reading this and enthusing so :)

 

 

It was a night when the wolves, and the lizard, were running and Stiles and Allison were along for the ride. Lydia usually joined in too, but she had 'prior commitments,' a phrase said with a curl of her lip that had telegraphed some terrible family occasion that she had to be present for. Urgh. The pack had crowded round, surrounding her with reassurance and strength before she'd had to leave. She was going to be back as soon as possible though. The pack would be waiting for her.

 

 

Right now, the pack was out in the moonlight, enjoying stretching many animal legs. Stiles laughed as Scott bumped against his hip on his way over to Allison again. He and Derek had sort of been circling the two humans all evening. It was almost like herding, making sure that their mates were safe. Stiles ran a hand down Derek's back, grinning as the Alpha curled closer.

 

 

Then Derek glanced up sharply. The others were all looking in the same direction too. Stiles glanced at Allison.

 

 

“Are your family....?”

 

 

“They're definitely not back yet.”

 

 

Okay, not Argents then. Other hunters? Other wolves? The latter guess proved correct when a small pack crashed into the clearing moments later. Derek's pack immediately gathered around their humans and Allison produced her crossbow, which left Stiles with the wolves as his only protection. They were better than any firearm. He rested a hand on Derek’s shoulder, gripping the fur there for reassurance, for both of them. Derek kept close.

 

 

The wolf at the head of the other pack shifted into a tall redheaded man with eyes that appeared to be almost golden. He didn't look impressed. Allison adjusted her aim towards him. She was letting Stiles know that she had his back, that she was ready, and that this was the part where he needed to start talking. Right.

 

 

Stiles cleared his throat, feeling the reassuring press of pack all around him. “So you're in Hale territory. But I bet you know that, since you didn't approach our Alpha first to let him know of your pack's arrival. Yes, there's still a pack here, this is still Hale territory, and no, you can't 'persuade' us to give it up. Did I miss anything?”

 

 

The other Alpha's lips thinned and he showed his teeth. Stiles did not look impressed.

 

 

“You are speaking for the Alpha?” the intruder asked at last.

 

 

He was giving Stiles a look up and down that made Stiles bristle. Not cool. It wasn't like he was dressed inappropriately – sneakers with a jean skirt and jacket. He was not going to be the chick in slasher movies that wore heels and a ridiculous dress and was the first one picked off by the monster in the woods.

 

 

“Sorry if my hemline offends you,” Stiles snarked back. “If you'd maybe, I don't know, done this the right way, then you'd be talking to the Alpha right now instead of his mate. So just state your business before the wolves get restless and the hunter gets twitchy.”

 

 

Derek huffed – part _shut up Stiles_ , part amusement. He'd deny it later but that was totally amusement. Allison smirked and kept her crossbow steady. The other Alpha's eyes flickered across Derek's pack and back to Stiles.

 

 

“A hunter and a.....lizard. And you call this a pack?”

 

 

Jackson's tail was whipping back and forth dangerously. Danny pressed close to his best friend, making sure that Jackson didn't do anything impulsive. Stiles kept talking, keeping an eye on the other pack's wolves. None looked coiled to strike yet.

 

 

“Hey, that was speciesist, and this is totally the wrong crowd for that kind of material. Also there's no rules about having more than one species in a pack. Believe me, I checked thoroughly. We have a working relationship with the town's resident hunters and they know our wolves. They didn't know we'd be having visitors tonight so you might want to plan your exit carefully. They don't fire warning shots. Did you know that most packs had humans in them even back in the earliest recorded times?”

 

 

The other pack leader eyeballed him for a second before his expression smoothed out into something that was probably supposed to be pleasant. “We heard rumors that the Hale pack still existed and we came to pay our respects.”

 

 

Stiles just about resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because seriously? He'd met a ton of packs who'd come to pay their respects to Derek, and all of them had either called first or sent somebody on ahead to warn of their arrival. A pack just turning up in another's territory was an emphatic declaration of not giving a fuck and usually led to territory challenges and bloodshed.

 

 

“Of course you did. So pay your respects, and make like leaves on the wind.”

 

 

The alpha growled but Stiles didn't jump. He'd been confronted by scarier wolves. The rest of the pack stayed in position. Finally the alpha slide his gaze away and something inside Stiles unclenched.

 

 

“This was bad timing. Alpha Hale, I hope we can do this again at a more opportune time.”

 

 

Translation – hopefully some of your pack will get killed off soon and we'll be able to challenge you for your territory. Won't that be fun? Stiles smiled thinly.

 

 

“Respects received. Goodbye.”

 

 

The alpha gave him a last scathing look before shifting back into wolf-form and leading his pack away. Derek made a noise towards Danny and Boyd, who quickly followed the intruders. They'd make sure that the visiting wolves actually left Hale territory. Stiles let out a deep breath. Allison grinned at him.

 

 

“You're getting really good at that.”

 

 

“And yet the guidance counselor keeps telling me that I talk too much and that it won’t get me anywhere in life. Nice bow posing.”

 

 

Allison nodded her thanks and folded the crossbow back down again. She had this effortless way with weaponry that was kind of a turn-on. “Lydia’s going to hate that she missed this.”

 

 

“Yeah, well, they’ll probably be back so she’ll get a second bite.”

 

 

The others were double-checking in all directions, making sure that there were no other surprises waiting in the woods for them. Derek and Scott both shifted back to human form, clearly wanting to check on their mates. Stiles welcomed Derek’s sudden invasion of his personal space. Holding himself together like that, holding the front line, was never fun but he’d do it every day if it kept the pack safe. Derek had needed to stay in wolf form in case a fight broke out, so it’d been up to Stiles to keep the conversation moving. That, he was the master of.

 

 

Derek pressed closer, wrapping his arms around Stiles and nosing down his neck to scent-mark him. Stiles melted against him; it was pretty difficult to concentrate when his mate was doing that. Something Derek definitely knew.

 

 

“Danny, keep an eye on them,” Derek instructed, not taking his eyes off Stiles.

 

 

After Danny’s amused reply, Derek took hold of Stiles and sped further into the woods until Stiles found himself pressed up against a particularly sturdy tree. Ah, this he was familiar with. He barely had time to open his mouth before Derek was plastered against him, lips insistent on Stiles’. Heat surged through Stiles and he buried his hands in Derek’s hair.

 

 

Derek pressed sucking biting kisses to Stiles’ jaw and neck, a single rough word repeatedly slipping out as he did. “Mine.”

 

 

Stiles palmed Derek’s cock through his jeans, which got him an extremely loud growl in return. God, the power-trip. Stiles grinned. He was the Alpha’s mate, the only one who had any kind of strong influence over the Alpha. Derek…Derek was dropping to his knees with a completely greedy look on his face as he reached under Stiles’ skirt and started stroking Stiles’ cock. Gah.

 

 

Stiles gasped and tried to glare as Derek pulled Stiles’ cerise underwear down. “This is a werewolf thing, isn’t it? Outdoor sex, communing with your wolf, being one with nature?”

 

 

Derek gave him one of his patented _seriously, why are you still talking?_ looks before licking Stiles’ cock into his mouth. Stiles jolted at the delicious wet heat. Derek was **good** at this. Derek was on his knees before Stiles. Talk about a power-trip.

 

 

Even in his breathless mind-blown state, Stiles could recognize why he'd been gifted with outdoor sex during pack time. He’d stood up to another Alpha, protected his own and their betas, and reiterated Derek’s claim on him for everybody to hear. Derek was handsy and possessive on a regular basis. Stiles doing Alpha mate stuff always ramped that way up to eleven. Derek was turned on, and he was proud of his mate. Stiles was totally cool with benefiting from that.

 

 

He tugged at Derek's hair some more, his hips happily rolling. Derek had one hand heavy on Stiles' waist, keeping him pinned in place. Okay, yes, Derek's possessive nature was a turn-on. It could be stifling, but Stiles knew more about werewolves and packs and mates now and how losing a pack could affect a wolf. Derek held on tight to what he'd been shocked to receive after losing everything.

 

 

Stiles could relate.

 

 

He let out a whine, the words starting to build up in his mouth again. He tried to stay quiet but the words streamed out – how much he wanted Derek, how good Derek felt around his cock, and please harder, right there, more. Derek hummed and the suction increased as his fingers began probing behind Stiles' balls and yep, that was Stiles done. He let out a howl, his mind whiting out for a while before he came back down to earth, Derek nuzzling his belly. Stiles smiled sleepily.

 

 

Derek worked his way back up Stiles' body and Stiles reached a hand down but oh...wow, Derek had taken care of that already. Or maybe it had taken care of itself. More heat flooded Stiles in response to that idea. Derek chuckled and nipped at Stiles' mouth. Yeah, they were definitely taking this inside.

 

 

Stiles realized something was off as soon he took his first step away from the tree. “Oh my God, you've actually stolen my underwear, haven't you?”

 

 

Derek smirked with more than a hint of teeth.

 

 

*

 

 

The idea had been brewing for a while before Stiles voiced it to Derek one night.

 

 

“I think we should tell my Dad about werewolves.”

 

 

Derek stilled but he didn't look horrified or angry. That was a good start. Stiles licked his lips and talked, because silence made him itchy.

 

 

“I know it's a risk and there's the whole secret society thing but seriously he's the Sheriff. Having the law on our side would be awesome. Maybe we won't have to rely on Deaton for everything. And then the Argents can't threaten to use 'we could tell your father that your life’s regularly in danger because you hang out with wolves' as blackmail, because that's getting really old. I know he's not pack but he's the Sheriff and he knows that things aren't making sense around here and this is one of the only things I've ever lied to him about and he's my pack and...”

 

 

Derek's hand gripped Stiles' neck and drew them closer together. Stiles let out a breath and leaned against Derek. The Alpha rubbed the tension out of his muscles until Stiles’ eyes were closed and he was only aware of Derek's touch.

 

 

“He should know,” Derek said at last.

 

 

Stiles' eyes snapped open. “I...really? You don't...really?”

 

 

Derek smirked and squeezed Stiles' neck for a final time before getting to his feet. Stiles mumbled a protesting noise.

 

 

“The law on our side would be useful. And...” Derek stroked Stiles' cheek with a fond gentleness that made Stiles’ heart clench. “He's your pack.”

 

 

Stiles' smile wobbled and he flung his arms around the werewolf. Derek huffed out amusement, but held on as Stiles babbled thanks and worries into his skin. Because his Dad was awesome, but what if he just saw monsters that could hurt his town and his son, and he banned Stiles from seeing Derek? That would suck and he really didn't want sneaking around to become even more complicated. Derek kissed behind his ear.

 

 

“He loves you and he's a good man.”

 

 

Right. Yes. Both of those things were true. Stiles could hear his Dad downstairs, getting dinner ready, so he smoothed down his green and white print dress and grabbed Derek's hand. He was going to do this. They were going to do this.

 

 

Derek didn't even question it. He followed Stiles downstairs into the kitchen, a wall of strength and heat behind him. He’d done dinner with Stiles’ Dad before. They hadn’t been exactly comfortable occasions but the Sheriff hadn’t demanded that the relationship end, he’d just been pointed about the age gap and how young Stiles was. He hadn’t talked too much about Derek’s criminal record. Stiles had been so thrilled that he’d almost cooked bacon for his Dad as a thank-you, almost.

 

 

In the kitchen, his Dad took one look at Stiles’ expression and immediately stopped making breakfast.

 

 

“What’s going on?”

 

 

Right. Sheriff. Stiles swallowed hard, but Derek was there, a hand at his back, a reminder that he wasn’t doing this alone. Stiles tried for a calming smile. His Dad looked even more worried.

 

 

“Dad, there’s some stuff we need to talk about.”

 

 

So his Dad sat down after Stiles made him promise to hear them out and to not go for his gun at the first surprise. Then Stiles managed to coherently explain that there was a werewolf pack in Beacon Hills, that Derek was their leader, and that the Argents were pretty focused on wiping out all supernatural creatures. Derek wolfed out so that the Sheriff didn’t think some elaborate prank was being played or that his son needed to see a doctor immediately. To his credit, he didn’t go for his gun. He did jerk backwards and look freaked out though. He also looked sympathetic during the story of what had really happened to Derek's family.

 

 

When Stiles' words finally miraculously dried up, there was the warm reassuring pressure of Derek’s hand on his bare leg. Stiles curled his own hand around Derek’s fingers. He needed to hold onto his mate. His mate. Yeah, that part was staying secret for a while yet.

 

 

His Dad poured himself some whiskey. He suddenly looked a lot older. Pain lanced through Stiles. He’d done that to his father.

 

 

“Stiles, I…this is a lot to take in, kiddo. I mean, it explains a lot, not that I can put any of it in my reports.” He took a long drag of alcohol and a deep breath. “Thank you, for telling me, for trusting me. But Jesus, I wish you’d told me sooner. I could have…”

 

 

“Cured Scott? Told the Argents to leave town? Dad…” Stiles’ words softened. “There’s no cure and there’s always going to be hunters and really weird stuff happening and me attached to all of it. I just…I wanted you to know that it’s totally not you and you have no idea how much I hated keeping it from you.”

 

 

His Dad reached across and pressed a hand firmly to Stiles’ shoulder. “I’m glad you told me. It’s…it’s going to take time to process and I have a lot of questions, for both of you. But right now, I...family night, from what you’ve told me I could have lost you, several times. So humor me, okay, kid? Let's watch a game together. That includes you, Hale, and no more sneaking in and out through my son’s bedroom window. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that.”

 

 

Stiles smiled and this time his Dad smiled back.

 

 

*

 

 

Stiles always kept a hand on his cellphone when he was walking around town alone. Any pack member without a packmate close by was in danger from hunters or other wolves, as they’d discovered the hard way. So Stiles and Derek and the others had come up with a code that any of them could text blindly if they needed to. A sort of SOS, Danger Will Robinson, that would let the pack know that trouble was definitely here and that an intervention of some sort was needed.

 

 

That was exactly where Stiles' mind went when Chris Argent suddenly appeared beside him as he was contemplating cereal in the grocery store. Great. He typed the message in but didn’t press ‘send’ yet. They did have a truce with the Argents and Chris could just be saying hello.

 

 

“Stiles. I thought it was time we talked.”

 

 

Or not. Stiles flicked a glance over at Chris before going back to staring at Cap’n Crunch. He could so handle this.

 

 

“Sure. Don’t think about taking that Cap’n box though. I’ve almost won this staredown.”

 

 

Chris’s genial smile morphed into a vague frown, causing Stiles to mentally fist-pump. Letting his mouth run always seemed to piss hunters off, which usually worked in Stiles’ favor, as far as getting to the truth was concerned. Plus they were very much in public; Chris wasn’t likely to break the treaty over a little spilled cereal.

 

 

“Alison says you and Derek are…serious now.”

 

 

Translation – I came by the information that you’re Derek’s mate by reading my daughter’s diary and listening to her phone calls. Stiles was suddenly glad that he hadn’t chosen today to go clothes shopping. He had a horrible suspicion that he would have been confronted by Victoria.

 

 

He didn’t even bother to give Chris another sidesway look this time. “Been serious for a while now. Also, discussing this fact with my friend’s father is kinda weird and creepy. Just so you know.”

 

 

Chris angled his body so that he was closer, so that only Stiles could hear him, so that Chris could probably smell the Burberry perfume that Stiles was wearing. Stiles’ grip tightened on the phone in his pocket.

 

 

“It probably feels exciting right now, Stiles, like something out of Wolf’s Rain.” Oh hell no, had an Argent or accomplice been snooping in his bedroom, through his DVD collection?! “But the closer you get to him, the stronger the urge to turn you is going to be for Derek and soon he won’t be able to resist. Now how would your father feel if…”

 

 

“My father’s known about me and Derek for weeks, dude.” Stiles grabbed the box of Cap’n Crunch and dropped it into his basket. “About the same amount of time that he’s known about werewolves and hunters.”

 

 

Chris looked surprised. Ha! Gotcha. But before Stiles could walk away to do a victory dance in the next aisle, Chris tightly gripped his arm. Oh, definitely not cool. Derek would be able to smell that contact and would have to be restrained from seeking out bloody retribution. Which would give Chris every right, according to his code, to shoot Derek. Hunters were so sneaky.

 

 

“So your father’s in real danger now too. And you’ve got that other nocturnal social life and special shopping out of town, do you think a wolf can handle conflicting smells and lies that…”

 

 

Motherfucker. Stiles had definitely been tailed. Alison wouldn’t ever reveal any of that to her father. And if Chris thought that he could get away with insinuating vague threats towards Stiles’ Dad while taking potshots at Stiles’ very fine wardrobe choices, then he was messing with the wrong mate.

 

 

Stiles pulled his arm firmly free, cutting off Chris’s words. He had to stop himself from baring his teeth. No need to give Chris any more ammunition for his ‘Stiles spends too much time with werewolves’ campaign.

 

 

“It’s awesome that you think you can tail me and dictate my life choices. But here’s the thing, I’ve been bathing in Estee Lauder since before I reached the fifth grade. To the people that matter, that’s not a secret. Also my Dad knows what’s out there in the dark now, so he’s armed and prepared for any non-regulation howls, hisses, or hunters. He’s in less danger than he was before. And as we’re swimming in the realm of family threats, here’s one. Allison’s my friend and she’s pack, so she’s going to find out about this ‘accidental’ meeting. And if we keep on having these kinds of chats, you’re going to lose her. Because pack behaves better than this.” Stiles’ mouth flickered into a quick mean grin. “Good talk.”

 

 

Before Chris could get hold of him again, Stiles headed to the chilled section, whistling as he went even as his heart hammered hard and his body shook slightly. Words he could do. Words he could focus on. He needed to.

 

 

He took a deep breath and tried. He had a real yearning for chocolate milk with his cereal all of a sudden. He kept one eye and ear out for hunter shadows. Once he got to his Jeep, he was gonna text Allison – to remind her how wacko her family was and to let her know that any privacy she’d thought she had at home had been breached – and then he’d text Derek, so that they could get onto shutting down any more pack tracking that the Argents and friends were engaged in.

 

 

Derek could also make sure that any trace of Chris Argent smell was gone from Stiles’ body. Urgh, hunter stench. Stiles lessened his grip on his phone and smiled a little at the chocolate milk in his basket. Maybe he could find a way to distract Derek, and himself, from the fact that he’d just faced down a seriously cranky hunter alone. He was sure that he’d think of **something**. They’d both fucking need it.

 

 

*

 

 

Stiles had always liked the way Derek looked at him, but that happy feeling had ramped way up after he’d revealed his preferred wardrobe choices to the Alpha and Derek had become so much more open in his appreciation. Stiles basked in the heat of Derek’s gaze, especially when it usually led to Derek ravishing him against the nearest flat surface. Stiles was an enthusiastic learner and Derek appreciated that.

 

 

Stiles spent a lot of time staring into the mirror. Sometimes, he tried to catch his Mom there. His eyes were definitely hers, so were some of his smiles and expressions. His Dad always used to say that. Sometimes he'd sounded sad about it but other times, pleased and fond. Stiles always felt pleased when he caught sight of her in his own face. Hey, Mom.

 

 

He wished that his Mom was still around to talk to.

 

 

He could get lost looking in mirrors. He liked inspecting his body, all the hollows and dips and planes of bone, the clean-shaven legs and the narrow hips. He liked to wonder why it all just looked better in a well-cut skirt or dress. He liked to use mascara and shimmery eye make-up and marvel at the results. He wondered what Derek had been drawn to.

 

 

Stiles were staring in the mirror when Derek arrived that night. Derek didn’t say anything, just shrugged off his jacket and shoes and silently approached until he stood just off center behind Stiles. The reflection in the mirror was more than nice, it was comforting and Stiles wanted to savor it. He stroked his own teal slip. The texture of clothes always did a lot for him. He especially liked the feel of Derek’s hands on him through beautiful fabric.

 

 

Derek wasn’t touching him right now. He was looking at Stiles like he could see under Stiles’ skin. Stiles stared at them both in the mirror.

 

 

Eventually he broke the silence. “What do you see?”

 

 

It was a stupid existential question and a really unhelpful one. But Derek, who’d always been king of the cryptic questions and answers, tilted his head and took a step closer. His arms wrapped around Stiles’ waist, as though anchoring them both.

 

 

He nosed at Stiles’ neck and breathed in like Stiles’ scent held all the secrets of the universe.

 

 

Then his hands started to explore Stiles’ body, mapping out skin and skeleton. It was a very Derek answer – no words, all physical, plenty of meaning. Stiles shifted on the balls of his feet. Derek made a raspy noise in his throat.

 

 

“Keep looking.” His voice sounded rawer than usual. Had Stiles done that? Because that was awesome.

 

 

Stiles stared into the mirror and saw his moon-pale skin against Derek’s outdoor tan, the roughness of Derek’s stubble and the many marks on his own smooth neck and jaw, his more wiry awkward frame pressed up against Derek’s ‘sculpted by God’ body. Him in satiny teal, not made for his proportions, and Derek in charcoal jeans and a black tee, both of which hugged his body. It was an image of contrasts. It was really hot.

 

 

Stiles moaned and pressed back against the solid weight behind him. He loved how Derek handled him; he loved the feel of Derek taking care of him. Derek was marking him again on the neck. He never seemed to stop. The day that one mark faded, another was made to take its place. Derek wanted everybody to see who Stiles belonged to. Mostly Stiles complained vehemently about looking like somebody's chew-toy. He always enjoyed the sensation though, of teeth and tongue and Derek's ego-boostingly-powerful want.

 

 

“I…ah…I like what you see.”

 

 

“So do I.”

 

 

And now Derek's hand was snaking underneath the slip and taking hold of Stiles, and Stiles was watching. Oh God. It made his skin feel like it was on fire. He arched into the touch, trapped between Derek and the image of what they were doing. It was ridiculously hot. If Derek's aim had been to render Stiles speechless through sheer hotness, then aim very much fucking achieved.

 

 

Stiles' hips moved and he managed to breathlessly push words out. “Just so you know, you're not stealing my underwear this time.”

 

 

Derek smirked against his neck and worked his hand skillfully. Stiles gulped in more air. Every movement Derek made was an answer. Oh, sure, Stiles liked getting words from Derek and there were times when he really needed them, more than anything. But other times, words really weren't that important.

 

 

The next morning, Stiles stole Derek's boxer-briefs and wore them to school under his jeans. Under his layers of baggy shirts, he wore an ivory lace-trimmed camisole. He wasn't going to give either item up easily. It was going to be a really awesome night.

 

 

_-the end_


End file.
